


Clever Metaphors To Do With Archery

by pirateygoodness



Series: Within My Heart There Is Another Heart [1]
Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-06
Updated: 2010-05-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: "Get dressed," Cara says, watching her with eyes that seem to say the opposite. "I'm going to teach you."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Livejournal

The next morning, Kahlan wakes with the sun, exhausted and still smiling from the memory of the night before. She feels stiffness just shy of pain at her hips and her thighs, and the slow tug of protesting muscles makes her smile all the wider, as she slips from between the sheets. 

Careful not to wake Cara, she pads across the room to the wardrobe, finding a clean shift and undergarments ready for her. There are other things, dresses and corsets and stockings, like a proper country home, but Kahlan does not dress herself any further. There will be time enough for that later. 

For now, while it is only she and Cara, Kahlan allows herself this indulgence, smiling at the way the cloth hangs loosely around her hips, brushing against skin still tender from the night before. She stretches once more, and pads out into the kitchen. 

*

There are no servants in the summer cottage, not the way that there are in Aydindril, and so it is Kahlan's job to make the fire, to prepare the morning meal. It is work, the sort that she sometimes resented when she and Richard and Zedd were traveling together, making meals from trapped animals and found vegetables. But now, as she sets fire to the kindling and coaxes it to life, Kahlan feels almost relaxed. 

She finds food in the pantry, stocked in preparation for the visit, and as she sets to work in the kitchen she hears the sounds of Cara waking from the bedroom. As Kahlan cracks the eggs, watching them begin to sizzle, she feels a hand at her hips and Cara, pressing warm against her back. "You're awake," Cara says, voice rough and sleepy. 

Kahlan arches her back, feeling the way that she and Cara fit together, back-to-front. "I am," she says.

Cara all but growls, tugging Kahlan closer. "I thought you were tired, last night."

Kahlan sighs, feeling her body respond to Cara's touch and suddenly _wanting_ , even after the night before. "Cara," she says, shakier than she expected herself to feel. "I'm going to ruin breakfast."

Cara chuckles, and the warmth of her disappears, and Kahlan hears the scrape of her chair as she takes a seat at the table. 

When Kahlan finally turns, a plate of eggs in one hand and bacon in the other, she very nearly drops them. Cara is waiting for her, hardly dressed at all and smiling as though she was wondering when Kahlan might notice. Her shirt, half-open and sloppily buttoned, is the only thing she has on that could reasonably be called clothing, and Kahlan cannot help but smile in return. Even after all these years, she is utterly shameless. 

She sets the food down on the table, and Cara picks up her fork but does not eat, instead watching Kahlan. As Kahlan sits, she feels Cara's hand at the hem of her dress, and looks up to see that wicked smile on her face, the one she never could resist. "Breakfast looks wonderful," Cara purrs, eyes resting just below Kahlan's collar. 

Kahlan catches Cara's hand as it slides beneath her skirt, and places it on her knee. "Thank you."

Cara's smile is knowing, but she curls her fingers around Kahlan's and stills her hand, conceding defeat.

They eat in silence, for a while. Cara's thumb traces shapes along the back of Kahlan's hand, and it takes nearly all of Kahlan's will to focus on her meal, and not Cara's touch. She casts her gaze around the room, searching for distractions. 

It's only then that she notices Cara's bow, resting in a corner beside the door. It is a reminder of times past, stained Mord'Sith red, the stave worn from use. Kahlan cannot help but smile, as she thinks back to that time. Cara turns, following her gaze. 

"I can't believe you still have that," Kahlan says. "After all these years."

Cara sets her shoulders back, sitting taller, pride suddenly clear in every curve of her body. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know." Kahlan says, almost absently.

"It is a beautiful weapon." Cara's tone is loving, almost reverent - the one that she reserves for talking about her family. "It served me very well."

Kahlan turns back to look at Cara, taking in the distant quality to her smile, the longing look in her eyes. "You know," Kahlan says, "I never did learn to shoot properly."

Cara turns to meet Kahlan's gaze, and suddenly she's eight years old and perfectly innocent. "You haven't?"

Kahlan shakes her head. Cara's hand is still resting atop hers, on her knee, and Kahlan feels Cara's fingers curl to hold her hand properly. "Get dressed," Cara says, watching her with eyes that seem to say the opposite. "I'm going to teach you."

*

Cara dresses in record time, slipping into clothes from the day before and leaving Kahlan in the bedroom, trailing fingertips along the bare skin of Kahlan's waist as she leaves. 

Kahlan's corset and dress take longer, as always, and when she emerges from the bedroom it is to the sight of Cara sitting at the fire, boots already on. She's seated in a way that reminds Kahlan of Richard, one ankle crossed over her knee, and resting atop her thigh is an arrowhead, rougher and broader than the ones Kahlan is used to seeing at Aydindril. Cara's hands are busy, lashing the arrowhead to the shaft of an arrow that Kahlan did not know was being kept at the cottage. 

Kahlan leans against the table, watching Cara's fingers as she ties off the first piece of twine and moves to a second arrow, her movements deft in a way that makes Kahlan think of other things - of the way those hands moved across her skin, hours before. 

Gradually, Cara begins to show signs that she has noticed Kahlan staring, and as she finishes with her fourth arrow she turns, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'm dressed," Kahlan says, feeling suddenly shy. She has not learned a new skill like this since she was a girl. 

"You are," Cara says, her eyes roaming across Kahlan's corset at her hips, her waist. Kahlan feels herself begin to blush. 

Cara rises, gathering the arrows and bow with one arm. "Come," she says, taking Kahlan by the hand. There is enough of a question in her voice that Kahlan almost wants to reassure her. "We're going outside."

*

Their cottage is in a clearing, nestled at the border between woods and fields. As Cara leads Kahlan outside, she begins to watch the trees around them carefully, almost critically, as though searching for the right one. 

"You can wait here," Cara says, setting the bow and arrows at Kahlan's feet. Her manner would feel brusque, were it not for the way that her hand passes down Kahlan's arm, from shoulder to wrist, as she walks away. 

Kahlan watches, smiling absently, as Cara surveys the very edge of the treeline. She cannot help but notice the fit of Cara's breeches, the way that the cloth sits just a bit more tightly across her backside, moving with her as she walks, slowly and thoughtfully. They are not her leather, but there is something about the cut of them that has always made Kahlan's heart beat a little faster, and she allows herself the indulgence of noticing. There is a cloth in Cara's back pocket, bright red, and Kahlan's gaze falls to it, appreciation giving way to curiosity. 

Just then, Cara reaches for it, and as she takes it from her pocket and wedges it beneath the bark of the tree she's facing, Kahlan realizes that it's a marker. Cara turns, hips swaying as she walks back to Kahlan. 

Idly, Kahlan wonders if any of Zedd's magic has lingered, even after the night before. 

"Alright," Cara says. Her voice is nothing but business, but her gaze drops well below Kahlan's eyes as she speaks. "That cloth, there, is your target. We'll start slowly - pick up your bow."

Kahlan makes a face, bending to take the bow in one hand. It's heavier than she expected. When she rises, Cara is smiling at her with a rare playfulness. 

There is a string in Cara's hand, and she takes the bow from Kahlan, bending to press her foot against one limb of it. She strings the bow in one smooth motion, a slight grunt the only thing that betrays the force in her arms as she pulls the string taut, bending wood to meet it. When she rises, handing the bow back to Kahlan, her cheeks are slightly pink. 

"Now," Cara says, only a little breathless. "How do you hold it?"

The wood feels awkward in Kahlan's hands, too big and too long, but she tries to mimic the way she remembers Cara holding it in the past, the way she has seen archers at Aydindril. She has held a bow before, fired one, but never comfortably and never enough to feel truly at ease with one in her hands.

Cara steps forward, leaning her body well into Kahlan's space. She reaches her arm along the length of Kahlan's and presses at her fingers, adjusting them slightly against the handle. "Almost," she says, voice suddenly much lower. 

Kahlan sighs, taking a moment to enjoy the warmth of Cara's body against hers. Just as quickly, though, it is gone, and Cara is bending to take an arrow from the ground and pressing it into Kahlan's free hand. 

"Now. You're going to nock the arrow, then draw the string back, slowly."

Kahlan nods, holding the arrow between her fingertips. It feels awkward, as though she is making a mistake - something that Cara confirms with a chuckle, batting Kahlan's hand away. "Like this," she says, gripping the arrow at the fletching, between her knuckles. 

In Cara's hand, the grip seems graceful, the movement easy. When Kahlan tries, it feels awkward and slippery, as though she'll lose hold of the string at any moment. As she tries to draw back, her arm begins to shake, tiring quickly. 

Again, Cara is at her side, gently correcting. She positions herself behind Kahlan, one foot between Kahlan's, one hand on her hip. Kahlan can feel the closeness of her body as she reaches forward, taking Kahlan's hand in hers, nocking the arrow and drawing it back hand-over-hand, as though Kahlan were a child. "There," she says, and her voice comes from somewhere just below Kahlan's ear, warm and closer than she expected. "You're doing well."

Kahlan smiles, ducking her head. There's a hand at her neck, across her shoulder, and she realizes after a shuddering, blank moment that Cara is pulling her hair back, drawing it over her shoulder and knotting it, low against her head. It helps, and Kahlan wants to thank her, but for a long moment her mouth feels too clumsy to say a thing. "Now," Cara says. "Aim."

Kahlan blinks for a moment. The tree is in front of her, red cloth tugging gently in the breeze, and Kahlan thought she had been aiming the whole time. Cara presses at her elbow, a sign that Kahlan should loosen her draw. Then, both of her hands are at Kahlan's hips, pushing until she steps, moving her stance perpendicular to the target. "Oh," Kahlan says with a nod, more to keep her own focus than anything else. "Of course."

Cara exhales, warm against the back of Kahlan's neck, and Kahlan begins to suspect that she is doing some of this on purpose. "Try again," she says, voice low and patient. "You want to draw to about -" Cara releases Kahlan's hips, and brushes her fingertip across the corner of Kahlan's mouth, plucking gently at her lower lip. "Here."

Kahlan takes a breath, shuddery and slow, and draws her arm back as Cara has shown her. It feels awkward, tugging at the muscles of her back in unfamiliar patterns, but she sights the target and releases, loosing an arrow that falls to the ground three trees south of her target. 

Cara laughs against the back of her neck, pressing her lips to Kahlan's bare skin. Kahlan lowers her bow, covering the hand on her hip with her own. "You're not helping," she says. 

Cara's laugh grows louder. "My deepest apologies." 

Kahlan is ready to protest, to point out that most weapons training is not quite so distracting as this, when Cara steps away entirely. Kahlan almost leans into the loss of her, but she keeps herself steady, not wanting to lose her correct stance. Cara takes up a place against the side of the house, leaning at the windowsill. She is not too far away, but she is no longer close, and she has to raise her voice a little for Kahlan to hear her patiently call, "Again." 

Kahlan's next three arrows fly just as wide as the first. But Cara smiles and gathers them for her, setting them at Kahlan's feet with a patient smile and a hand on the arm that holds the bow. "This time," she says, "when you look at your target, keep this hand in your line of sight."

Kahlan shoots, four arrows that fall wide, but less so, and Cara returns them just as patiently. "Again," she says, and her voice is so gentle that Kahlan suspects it may be one that she uses on Sonia. 

They go through the cycle of it, Kahlan missing the target and Cara correcting her each time, for what feels like it may be hours - until Kahlan's last arrow hits the correct tree, barely a palm's breadth below the marker. Cara's smile is broad with pride, and she nearly runs to Kahlan, barely able to restrain herself as she wraps Kahlan in an embrace. 

"Finally," she says, light and teasing. 

Kahlan pulls Cara closer, laughing against the top of her head. "I'm learning."

Cara steps away from Kahlan's embrace, looking at her with a smile that is relaxed, unconcerned that someone but Kahlan might see her at ease. Kahlan has always loved this Cara especially, the way that she smiles easily and often when they are alone. "I know," Cara says. "I was starting to worry that we'd be out here until tomorrow."

Kahlan makes a face, and Cara speaks again. "How is it that you've never learned this, before now."

"I've never needed to," Kahlan says.

As she speaks, she reaches down, fingers brushing the space against her thigh where her daggers used to sit. It's a movement of habit, reaching for weapons she hasn't carried in years, except ceremonially. Cara glances down, eyes following her hand, and she nods with understanding. More times than either can count, Kahlan has killed men from dozens of paces away with a carefully-thrown dagger - even now, the bow feels unfamiliar in Kahlan's hands compared to the comforting weight of them. 

Cara fists her hands at the small of Kahlan's back, rubbing with her knuckles. "You're doing well, at least."

Kahlan knows it to be a half truth. Her marksmanship is acceptable for a first start, but that is a far cry from _well_ \- still, she feels her cheeks warm at the compliment. "I had an excellent teacher."

Cara leans in, nothing but naked lust in the lines of her body, the way that she all but purrs at the skin of Kahlan's jaw, just below her ear. One hand rises, rubbing at Kahlan's back, her shoulder, the top of her drawing arm, and the touch makes Kahlan shiver. She does not doubt Cara's intentions, nor her desire, but she learned long ago that this is often the way that Cara behaves when she is feeling bashful. 

"Are you sore?" Cara asks, and the feel of breath against her skin is enough to make Kahlan's knees bend, just slightly. 

Kahlan's entire arm is painfully stiff, from the middle of her back to her elbow. She has not raised a weapon in years, and the bow uses different movements, demanding strength in different ways. "Maybe." 

Cara laughs, lips barely pressed to the corner of Kahlan's mouth. She splays her fingers along the back of Kahlan's shoulder, finding the most tender part of the muscle there and pressing down. "Here?" she asks. 

Kahlan groans, half from pain and half from the closeness of Cara's body, the way Cara is breathing against her mouth. "Yes," she says. "Definitely there."

"Anywhere else?"

Cara's voice is light, teasing, but her hands are moving with intent - one high on Kahlan's shoulder and the other quite a bit lower, tracing the curves of her back. Kahlan can feel her body warming to Cara's touch, and the kiss that Cara pulls her into is a relief. Her mouth is lazy, but insistent, pulling kisses from Kahlan until she is left gasping and pink-cheeked. 

"You're incorrigible," Kahlan says

Cara pulls back, lust plain across her features. Her eyes are dark, and her smile is almost feral as she takes the bow from Kahlan's limp hand, nearly forgotten. She bends to unstring it with careful hands, running her palms lovingly along the stave. Kahlan cannot help but pause to watch, thinking about the lines of Cara's back and the strength of her arms, beneath the thin linen of her shirt. 

She turns, catching Kahlan as she stares and smiling, absently. But Kahlan does not look away, as Cara bends to collect the arrows, and she does not miss the extra sway in Cara's hips as she rises. She is halfway to the door of the cottage before she turns, meeting Kahlan's eyes with an invitation in her own. "Are you coming, then?"

Kahlan laughs, and runs to join her.


End file.
